


Hey I just met you, and this is crazy, but marry me fucker

by My12inchtoe



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Royalty, Anyway they go to a ball too, Arranged Marriage, Assassin Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), Flirting, I’m too lazy to tag rn I’ll do it later, King Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Prince GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), maybe I’ll never do it later but uh, or some kind of variation of it, w/ techno and gogy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-11
Updated: 2021-02-26
Packaged: 2021-03-17 22:34:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,967
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29358054
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/My12inchtoe/pseuds/My12inchtoe
Summary: Dream was an assassin tasked to kill the prince of their new kingdom.Why, you ask? It’s simple. The newly merged kingdoms don’t have a name, and the king has decided that his son, once crowned king, shall choose the new name. However, people feared that the young prince would choose a stupid name, so of course, the best solution was to murder him.Little did he know that he would find the prince in a state of being cursed then get lectured on the meaning of consent in fairy tales, then subsequently semi-proposed to and called hot all in one day by said cursed prince, all within the same night he tried to assassinate him.Non-confusing and truly fun times, huh?
Relationships: Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), GeorgeNotFound & Darryl Noveschosch, Minor GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)/Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 63





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, like always, if suddenly the energy of the studio changes and Dream and/or George are not comfortable with the shipping of their personas then by all means, let me know. I’m 100% into respecting people’s boundaries.
> 
> I’m not even sure why I made this, but I thought about it and decided “hey, this idea was kinda funny for 8 minutes let’s make it a thing”
> 
> Consent is sexy too bitches

There’s a bit of lore with the merging of two kingdoms, but all you need to know is that Xathea was a kingdom that merged with Kagnar to create a new kingdom. It isn’t known what the new kingdom’s name will be, but there was a fascinating announcement to be had: The king’s son, George, would choose the name of the new kingdom once he became king.

In fear of having the kingdom named something stupid, Dream has been hired to kill the poor prince. 

There wasn’t too much to be known about the prince, other than the fact that he existed and was largely referred to as Prince George. He wasn’t seen very often outside of the old Xathean castle walls. Dream noted that the people of Xathea had cute accents. He should ask the baker next door to say “water bottle” next time. 

The young prince has always been a bit of a castle shut-in, but he hasn’t been seen for a quite few days making it seem as if he was ill or some sort. Dream’s hirees figured if the prince was sick, then it would be easier to take him out. Dream agreed.

He scaled the outside of the castle walls quite easily. The castle guards were distracted by another assassin that Dream’s hirees sent, most likely as a diversion. _Poor guy._

He hopped in the prince’s bedroom via open window. What kind of idiot leaves the window wide open when they sleep? 

As he inched closer, dagger held in his hands steadily and readily, he had a closer look at the face he was going to kill. And sorta. Took a step back?

It was the face that threw him off at first. The prince was actually kind of pretty? Dream’s brain blue screened as he realized that appearances shouldn’t matter when he’s gonna look like every other maggot-ridden corpse within a month from now, but still, he can’t help but appreciate a lovely face, can he? The way the moonlight luminated his face through the open window didn’t help either. The contrast of Dream’s shadow and the moonlight felt illegal looking that good shining on him. 

He observed the way the rest of his body was held, for observational purposes only, of course. He started from his head, crown haphazardly hung on top of seemingly soft brown hair. Dream unconsciously patted it. He then looked at the rest of his body and confusion settled in. 

That didn’t seem like a normal sleeping position. Was the guy already dead? He looked at the rose tucked neatly into his hands, slightly glowing. At first, Dream thought it was just a trick of the light, but upon further inspection, it was quite clear that the rose was self-illuminating.

The prince lay down flat on his back, unnervingly still, hands arranged over his chest holding the odd glowing rose. The weirdest detail of all were the thin, throned vines growing all around him, curling over his arms, legs, chest, everywhere. It sort of reminded Dream of that story called _Sleeping Beauty_.

Dream looked at the prince again. _That story in this context seems kinda... romantic._ He shrugged. _Wouldn’t hurt. He’s cute and I’m kinda bored._

He pulled off his mask, leaned down, and promptly gave the prince a quick, short kiss. And held his dagger over the prince’s heart to stab him right after.

All of a sudden the room glew bright, illuminated not only by the moon this time, but the rose. The thorned vines wildly snapped away and slowly withdrew into it. And the prince’s right hand slowly moved away from holding the flower to rubbing his eyes.

George’s eyes opened. And was met face to face with a dagger pointed straight to his heart. He shook his head and looked at the dagger. Still there. He hadn’t even noticed his crown had fallen off, or the other person _literally holding the fucking knife_.

Now George decided to look up, and was met with the face of a young man. “Uh. Hi?”

And George promptly grabbed the lantern from his bedside table and slammed it into the man’s head.

The man rubbed his head and backed away. “Ow! What the hell?”

“The same could be said to you, you twat!”

The man paused for a moment. “Wait.” He started laughing. “Twat?” 

He wheezed uncontrollably. “That’s such… such a cute word!” He pushed his hair back. “Ah, you Xatheans have such cute accents and such cute words.”

“Ah yes, a vulgar simile for the Kagnar word ‘cunt’ and a rude way to refer to a jackarse is adorable.” 

“Jack _arse_?”

George paused. “Wait a minute.” He looked down at the rose he still held in his left hand, glow now fainter than it was before Dream kissed him. “I’m awake.” He looked at Dream. “Is that a knife?”

Dream stared. George looked on in confusion. “Are you an assassin?”

“Uh. Very good and solid question.”

“This must all be a weird dream.” He rubbed his eyes once more. “Rather vivid. Must be part of the curse. I wouldn’t have woken up if the only one here was an assassin. That’s ridiculous.”

He eyed Dream again. “What’s… your name?”

“Ah. You can call me. Dream?”

George nodded his head. “Another sure confirmation that none of this is real. At least my brain conjured up a _hot_ assassin instead of a weird looking one. Much better eye candy while I wait to wake up.”

Dream blinked. “Hot?”

George ignored him and moved on. “It wouldn’t make any sense if an assassin kissed me while I was sleeping when they were supposed to kill me instead, then subsequently breaking the curse. Two completely different things.”

Dream blue screened again. A very specific portion of George’s dialogue played in his head. _Kissed me while sleeping_ and _breaking the curse_.

“How would you feel if I told you I _did_ kiss you and broke your so-called spell?”

George looked at Dream. “That’s ridiculous. Like I said, what kind of assassin would kiss their target? That’s creepy.” That felt like some kind of personal attack. “Wait. You’re not trying to tell me that this _isn’t_ a dream, are you? Since this is clearly a dream.”

“Then how do I prove that you’re already awake and this isn’t a dream?”

“Well the only way to do that would be… huh. I guess there isn’t a way to tell after al—“

Dream grabbed George’s arms and pushed him to the wall, then kissed him again. Dream’s eyes were closed, and George’s were wide open, face red as a tomato. 

He pulled away, smirking. “Do you believe me now?”

George slowly slid to the floor, grabbing the sides of his head in disbelief, face still red. “What. What?”

He squinted at the floor. “You’re telling me that you came here to assassinate a very important figure, but then kissed them when they were asleep?”

“I thought it was kinda romantic! You know, like Sleeping Beauty!”

George stared. “First off, you’re not trying to save me. You were trying to kill me.” Dream held up his hands.

“I ain’t do nothin’ of the sort.” 

George shook his head. “And also, the original tale of Sleeping Beauty was not romantic at all. She was raped in her sleep, and impregnated against her will, gave birth to twins while still asleep, and the only reason she woke up was because one of her children sucked on her finger to remove the curse or whatever.”

Dream sat in shock. “That’s. Messed. Um. Up?”

George closed his eyes. “Says you, creepy man.”

“I am not a creepy man!”

George opened his eyes and pointed his finger at Dream. “You kissed me while I was sleeping and you considered that romantic! Who knows what you would’ve done next if I hadn’t woken up.”

“If you hadn’t woken up you would be assassinated! Plain and simple.”

“Oh yeah.”

“You said that unnervingly casually.”

“This isn’t the first time this has happened.” He closed his eyes. They burned because he was very tired. “Let me guess, they sent you because they didn’t want the kingdom to be named something stupid?”

“Oh wow, this really isn’t the first time this happened.”

“No shit.”

Dream tried to think about something else other than the fact that he’s talking to someone he was literally going to murder 20 minutes ago. “Uh… what’s that curse you were talking about earlier?”

George blinked. “I suppose I could tell you.” He crossed his legs criss cross applesauce style and rested his elbows on his knees, head sitting atop his palms. 

“The curse could probably be compared to Sleeping Beauty. I picked this flower, and to punish me, some rando cursed me to sleep until someone kissed me. Then we would get married and junk.” 

George changed to a different sitting position. “I was saving my first kiss for marriage. We would rule the kingdom together and whatnot, but I’m not sure who was supposed to kiss me awake in the first place. Maybe a neighboring royal? Or a noble?”

George squinted. “Wait. You took my first kiss. Shit.”

“Haha! You said shit.”

“That’s. Not even funny. Like, objectively. I even said shit earlier as well. But anyway—“ he waved his hand around, “does that mean we have to get married?”

Dream mentally backed up a bit, then smirked. “Wait, are you flirting with me?”

The prince spluttered. “Wait, _what_?” 

Dream walked over to sit next to him and nudged his shoulder with his own. “Oh come on! Let’s recap: You literally called me hot, blushed when I kissed you, didn’t immediately obliterate me afterwards, and practically proposed to me just now! In like, less than a minute! We’re kinda moving too fast for my taste, take me out to dinner first.”

George had an almost offended look on his face. “No! First off, I will not be taking you out to dinner. And second off, this was not flirting.”

“Uh-huh! Yeah it was!”

“And I did not propose! I was simply asking a logical question or not. The curse wasn’t exactly the most specific.”

“Well, the only question you need to be asking is if you were supposed to get married to whoever kissed you.”

“Well, that was a yes! But fate is weird since there are no rules! Like did you mess up my fate by interrupting it or are _you_ the one I’m supposed to marry?!” 

“Am I supposed to know that?!”

“GEORGE?!” A new voice enters the debating match. 

George quickly grabbed Dream’s arm and slammed him into his closet. _Shit! Mom! Uh, quick!_

“ARE YOU AWAKE?” _Quick thinking! Hurry!_

“UH, NO!”

Silence on the other end. _That was a stupid response, even by_ my _standards._

“OKAY!” That. Worked? Oh.

The sound of footsteps slowly clacked away. George sighed a sigh of relief.

Until the footsteps suddenly got heavy and sounded like they were running towards the door. 

All the sudden the door broke open and George’s mother, the Queen of the New Kingdom herself, unhinged his bedroom door by body-slamming into it. “AAAAHHH! WHAT THE HELL?!”

His mother stood there in shock. “I should be saying that to you! How are you awake?! Are you okay?! What happened?! Who were you talking to?!”

George scratched his head, glancing at the closet. “Uh. How long has it been since I’ve woken up?”

The queen shook her head. “It’s been a little under a week. Me and your father were worried sick thinking about your curse. We came in every single day to see if you had woken up, but you haven’t, up until now. How’d you wake up?!”

Was George supposed to lie? He felt if he told the truth, his mother would execute Dream, and he didn’t want to feel responsible for the murder of somebody, despite the fact that the person in question has experience assassinating an arrange of people.

“I… uh. I’m not so… sure? Maybe the kiss part of the curse was fake, and it was just some kind of sleeping potion instead?”

His mother pointed to the rose, glow dimmer than ever, left lying on his bed. “That doesn’t explain the rose’s involvement.”

“Maybe it was a curse, but not a kiss-related one? Why are you even asking me these questions like I’m supposed to know the answer?”

His mother sighed. “You’re right George. It’s not your fault. I’m really relieved your back, and your father will be thrilled to hear the news.” She shifted the leg she leaned on from side to side. She did that whenever she was worried, or hiding something, or both.

“It sounds as if you have something else to say.”

George’s mother flinched. And grimaced. And clasped her hands together. “I’m just notsurehowtotellyouthatipromisedyourhandinmarriagetotheotherkingdom’sroyalfamilyinreturnforkissingyouandsavingyourlife.” She took a deep breath. “For alliance’s sake and functionality, of course.”

George blinked. “Wait. What? I’m getting married?”

“Ah, yeah, and the ruler was excited about getting a spouse to rule with and all, plus the alliance between our kingdoms being bound through royal marriage benefits the both of us in terms of diplomacy, so I’m not sure they’ll be too excited if we suddenly say you woke up and decline. So we might have no choice in terms of marriage anyway.”

George scrunched up his face, pondered it, then relaxed his face again. “Fine. But which kingdom and who is the royal?”

“The Kingdom of Thirene is who we reached out to first, as they have a ruler close to your age. 

“If you don’t remember, the king’s name is King Technoblade. A rather odd name, but what can you say to other cultures?”

George made a confused expression. “You mean the Pig King?”

“Yes, that one. He’ll be your new husband, it seems.” She clasped her hands together yet again. “Well, after that bomb drop, you may have many thoughts, but please discuss them later! For now, get some rest. We’ll see you tomorrow when it’s morning.” She turned around to try and pick up the door she broke, attempting to lean it against the doorframe. “See you tomorrow, Georgie. Love you.”

“Love you too, mom.” And with that, she took her leave, long hair waving around behind her. 

George sat on the bed again, and stared at the wall. Until a certain blond slowly dragged open his closet door. “Did you forget about me?”

George looked over. “Actually, yes. I just had a private conversation, which held quite important information.”

“How could you just _agree_ to marry someone like that? And not question it in the slightest?”

“Well, it’s not like I could’ve done anything about it. Besides, like my mother said, there are diplomatic benefits. Plus, he’s a good fighter. Maybe I won’t have as many assassination attempts.”

George noticed the back of Dream’s head was bleeding. “Your bleeding.”

Dream looked deadpan. “You didn’t notice earlier? You literally tried bashing my head in with a lamp.”

“No, I don’t care about you, I care about my clothes. You’re in my closet, you could’ve gotten blood all over them.”

George beckoned over as he walked across the room and opened a new door. “Here, come over into the bathroom. I’ll help fix you up.”

“Aww, that’s so sweet George. Love you.” Dream mocked the queen’s voice as he followed suit.

“Shut up. Your own mother is probably dead and can’t love you anymore.”

“Wow, that’s an oddly specific insult to people without mothers. But you _are_ right.”

“Now I kind of feel bad about that statement.”

“You better.”

George pulled up a stool for Dream to sit on as he opened a drawer and brought out a few medical supplies. He pulled out a couple of expensive-looking towels and wetted one of them. Dream hissed as George started wiping up the blood. “Owie, Gogy. Don’t do this to me, I thought you said I was hot.”

“Get over yourself.” George grabbed some sort of bottle and dumped the contents onto Dream’s head in retaliation, causing Dream to hiss even louder.

“What the _hell_ was in that?!”

“Disinfectant.”

“Why’d you pour it on my head?!”

George ignored his question and thrusted a towel in his direction as he cleaned up. “Go take a bath. The tub is right over there.”

“What’s the point of doing all that disinfectant stuff if I’m just going to wash it all off?”

George glared at him. “First off, I just dumped it on your hair, so you have to wash that off anyway. Second off, do I _look_ like I was trained for this?”

“Hey, your words, not mine.” 

George grabbed a new lamp and held it threateningly above Dream’s head. “Bath.”

“Fine, fine.”

Dream started undressing. There wouldn’t be too much of a problem with this if it wasn’t for the fact that George was still there. George’s face became red. “Wh-what are you doing?”

“Getting undressed?”

“The bathtub is quite far from here, and there’s a separating door for privacy! What are you, some kind of pervert?! Creepy old man.”

“I am not old!”

“Is that the only problem you had with that statement?!”

George walked around Dream and started pushing him towards the shower area. “Go.”

This time, Dream actually followed directions without question. But as soon as he went 10 feet away, he yelled, “What if I masturbate in your shower?”

“Do _not_ use my bathroom for that purpose.”

****

Dream walked out of the bathroom, and the first question George asked is this sweet little one right here: “Did you actually use my shower to masturbate?” He walked over to Dream, tugged him down in a kneeling position, and started to wrap white bandages around his head.

Dream froze. And started laughing. The laughing turned into wheezing, for some odd reason. _Is this guy dying or something?_

Dream was still wheezing. “What the fuck? Why were you imagining that?”

George was red. “It was an honest question! And I was _not_ imagining that! _You’re_ the sick one for imagining me imagining that!”

“Well, I need some new clothes.”

“Correction, you _want_ new clothes.”

“Well. Here, do you at least have a cloak or something? My clothes have blood on them.”

“And who’s fault is that?”

“Yours? You’re the one who bashed my head in with a lamp.”

“You keep bringing that up but you’re the one who literally just tried to assassinate me.” George got up anyway, and went over to his closet. “Ew, it sort of smells like iron, you _did_ bleed all over my clothes.”

George threw Dream a shirt, pants, and a cloak. Dream moved to take his shirt off, but George cleared his throat. “You really have no shame, old pervert. Go back into the bathroom.”

“I am not old! We’re probably around the same age!”

Dream walks into the bathroom and returns at lightning speed. “Hey, uh, Georgie--”

“It’s just George.”

“Well, anyway, Georgie, the clothes are too small.” Dream waved his hands around and accidentally hit the top of George’s canopy bed. He cringed in pain and pulled back.

“Does it look like I have anything better to give you?! The only guy that reaches your height would be someone like my father, damn giant.”

“Wow, asking me to meet your parents? Romantic.”

“Stop taking everything I say and putting into that sort of context!”

Dream paused, then lit up and smacked his fist into his palm. “Say ‘water bottle’.”

“... What?” _Haha, wot._

“Say it!”

“Why?”

“Just do it.”

“No.”

“Aw, Gogy is a scaredy-cat.”

“Am not.”

“Then prove it. Say water bottle.”

“Fine.” George cleared his throat. “Water bottle.” Through Dream’s ears, it sounded like, “Wo-er bo-el.”

“That’s so cute! You guys say it so weirdly!”

“That’s the normal way! You guys are the ones that go,” he mimics the Kagnar accent, “wahder boddle.”

“Wo-er bo-el is _not_ normal.”

“Well, neither is wahder boddle!”

“Agree to disagree?”

“Pass, you’re clearly in the wrong. These aren’t opinions, these are facts.”

“That is not a fact!”

Dream looks out the (now closed) window, and notices the sun starting to rise. “Oops, I gotta go Gogy.”

“Good riddance.”

“Meanie Georgie!”

“Shut up.”

“Well, anyway, see ya!” Dream pulls his mask back on and secures his dagger onto his belt. As he vaults himself off the wall, he yells, “Invite me to the wedding!”

George didn’t notice the small blush on his own cheeks as he muttered, “Idiot.”


	2. Cake planning and a multitude of other things

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Uh cake testing then Technoblade appears then ball scene but only like 30% of it

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok y’all i know I replied to that other person and said chapter soon
> 
> And I was gonna post it like the day after but I wanted this one to be a bit longer
> 
> But anyway have fun with it ig y’all hungry thirsty asses

George hadn’t heard from Dream in a while.

He supposed it was normal, that he hadn't heard from a literal assassin whom he met via kill order, but he _was_ wondering why he thought about it so much.

George shrugged. “I guess he’ll just invite himself into the wedding if he really wanted to come.”

“Who?” Bad scrunched his eyebrows. “You’ve literally been talking about some random guy in vague quips of dialogue and I’m curious to see who he is.” 

George waved his hand at the noble. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Let’s do something productive like picking out my cake flavors.”

Bad shrugged. “Whatever you say.” They were currently sitting around a round table filled with little cake samples. 

“I’m leaning towards the chocolate one. Or maybe vanilla.” George picked up a chocolate sample and popped it in his mouth. “I’m so glad they made several of each so I can just keep eating.”

“Hey! Don’t eat too many, I have to try them all too!” Bad shook his head. “Why not red velvet? Try something a little more interesting?”

“How about… blueberry raspberry swirl?” George tried it and had a conflicted expression. “I’m so confused. I can’t tell if I like this one or not.”

“Here, let me try.” Bad picked one for himself. “I see what you mean.”

“Banana cream pie? What the hell are they—“

“Language, Prince George!”

“You’re calling me prince again.”

“Oh sorry, George.”

George sighed. “We’ve known each other since we were kids.”

“I know, I know! But in front of the others I have to address you properly. You _are_ the future king, and of a rank higher than mine.”

“My father is a perfectly fine king! I’m sure we can postpone his passing down of the crown for a couple more decades.”

“George, he’s planning to retire and get the break he deserves. It’s not right away, but it is soon, so you should start thinking about it a bit more.”

“Yeah yeah.” George randomly grabbed a new sample from the pile and promptly spit it out. “Oh, that one is not good.”

“Which one?”

“Uh.” He checked the label. “Mint caramel coffee.”

“Here, let me try. Oh. Why is this a flavor.”

“No idea.”

“What does your future husband like anyway?”

“There’s a word for that. Fiancé.”

“Well, anyway, what does this fiancé of yours like? Even though we’re hosting the event at our kingdom, we should at least attempt to be a bit more considerate.”

George grimaced for a solid moment. “Don’t know a lot about the guy. I’m wondering if I should go with vanilla? Since it’s universal? But vanilla is so plain. He may not like it. Chocolate is pretty universal as well but some people don’t like—“

“Red velvet.”

George blinked. “That’s… actually. Not a bad suggestion.”

“I mean, you didn’t pay it any mind when I proposed the idea earlier,”

“Yeah, but current me versus past me are two different people.”

“That literally happened 10 minutes ago, you muffin.”

“So, red velvet?”

“Your call.”

George hummed and nodded. “Red velvet. Notify the kitchen management, would you?”

“Sure, no problem George.” Bad walked out of the room and closed the door behind him with a soft click.

George got off his chair and promptly ragdolled to the floor. It’s not like he hated his arranged marriage or anything, but it just felt all too strange. Maybe laying on the floor would help clear his thoughts.

But laying on the floor sort of reminded him of Dream. In a twisted way. His eyes came into contact with his canopy bed frame and he remembered Dream hitting his hand on it. _Tall dumbass._

Bad poked his head into the room all too suddenly. “Who’s this tall butt? Also, language.”

“Argh! What the hell?! Also, that wasn’t meant to be said out loud. That was a private thought.”

“Language again!”

Bad looked at George again. “But anyway, back to the subject. What about this tall muffin?”

“Call him ‘tall ass’ instead and I’ll tell you.”

Bad sputtered. “What?! No!”

“Then I won’t tell you.”

Bad shrugged. “Fair enough.”

“You’re seriously not going to?”

“I don’t need to be forced to do something I’m uncomfortable with in order to gain bits of information that you refuse to tell me about.”

“Now that you put it that way….”

George pondered his options. “I feel like I need to get this off my chest though.”

Bad sat himself down on George’s bed. “Come on, hop on the bed.”

George reluctantly peeled himself off the floor and dragged himself to his bed. He flopped onto the soft bedding and groaned. 

“So, when I was in that coma long slumber thingie, some assassin kissed me and—“

“Hold on _what_.”

George continued. “I slammed his head in with my lamp, called him hot, figured out that he kissed me awake, then my mom came into the room and broke my door. Luckily we weren’t caught but he ended up taking a shower after I dumped medical alcohol on him. Haven’t seen him since.”

Bad blue screened as he attempted to process what he just heard. 

“And he told me to invite him to the wedding! Like what kind of prince would invite their own assassin to their wedding?!”

“You lied to the Queen about the curse?! That could have some serious effects as they’re trying to put more research into what happened to you.” Bad narrowed his eyes. “Also, someone tried to kill you and you let them shower in your bathroom?! Why did your assassin kiss you instead of kill you?! That whole situation gives me that energy of those shirts that say K-I- _fill-in-the-blanks_ sort of thing with two ambiguous letters at the end that either allude to kiss or kill!”

Bad took a deep breath. “Basically, George, what I’m trying to say is: _I have so many questions and concerns_.”

“For some reason, the only thing I can think about lately is if he thinks that _I’m_ hot or not.”

“Get a grip you stupid muffin! This isn’t some kind of fantasy romance novel!”

“It very well could be.”

“No.”

Bad sighed. “Well, whoever this mystery lover boy is, I hope he’s nice despite being an assassin who’s probably killed several people and maybe he’s not a nice person after all.”

“He’s a total dummy.”

“Do you like that sort of thing?”

“I truly do not know. Experiencing talking to him is like trying that blueberry raspberry flavor. Confusing.”

Bad suddenly jumped up. “Oh muffin tops!”

“What, Bad?”

“I forgot why I came back so early! This is a bit awkward to mention now, but Technoblade has arrived early.”

George blinked. “And you didn’t think to tell me earlier.”

“Completely flew out of my head, so sorry George.”

George sighed. “It’s fine. Do I need to make any appearances like really soon or…?”

Bad scratched his head. “I’m not really sure, but I do think it’d be good to get to know your fiancé before your marriage.”

“Fair enough.” George dusted off his pants for absolutely no reason and motioned for Bad to follow him. “Accompany me?”

“Sure!”

They walked down long halls and into the throne room. Bad tiptoed above George and readjusted his lopsided crown, pushed his sunglasses up in front of it, messed around with his hair, adjusted his cloak, and fiddled around with extra accessories.

“George dearie?”

“Oh, good afternoon, Mother.”

“Technoblade has arrived! Come greet him at the terrace, and bring those drinks from the kitchen.”

“Couldn’t you have the maids or something do that?”

“It’s more charming if you do it. Makes it look like you’re humble.”

“Fine.” He and Bad visited the kitchen, and George reluctantly carried the tray full of drinks. They walked out to the terrace, where a tall man with a long, red and regal-looking cloak stood with his back facing them. His crown was made out of gold. Come to think of it, there were quite a bit of large gold objects all over his attire. Seems he was a fan of jewelry.

“Good evening, King Technobla….”

George did a double take as he looked up at the king. The king was quite tall, looked regal and powerful with weapons and a large boar mask covering the top half of his face.

“Ears?” George blurted. _Shit, was that impolite?_

Bad tried to cover up for George’s mistake. “Forgive Prince George, King Technoblade, he still doesn’t know much about the outside world and the rest of the kingdoms. It’s not common knowledge of our kingdom.”

The king waved his hand around. “It’s fine. No point in holding grudges if we’re going to get married.” He glanced at George’s hands. “Are those drinks?”

George snapped back to reality. “Uhm. Yeah. I-I mean, yes, they’re for you and the others accompanying you.”

George cleared his throat after he offered drinks to everyone sitting at the terrace. “About the ears… is it impolite if I ask about them? And the mask too.”

“It wouldn’t hurt to tell you. My kingdom is made up of a race of pigmen. I happen to look a little more human than some of the others, but we’re intelligent, if you must know.”

George felt slightly more educated somehow. “What about the mask?”

“When I killed the former king, I had his head turned into a mask to wear around so I could assert dominance within my people.”

“Oh.”

Bad cleared his throat. “The New Kingdom is hosting a ballroom event tomorrow to help our two kingdoms get to know one another. We welcome you to join us, King Technoblade.”

The king pondered it. “I suppose it wouldn’t hurt. I accept your humble invitation. The people of Thirene I brought here would be pleased to participate in such an event.”

George tried to find new ways to educate himself with the Kingdom of Thirene’s customs. “Do you have many balls at your kingdom, King Technoblade?”

“Please, just call me Technoblade. You’re my fiancé after all. But to answer your question, Thirene does not throw balls. We do, however, have an annual battling tournament where each citizen is allowed to participate in a fight to the death. Whoever makes it to the top can duel the king. Either the king wins and retains their crown, or the new participant slays the king and gains the crown for themselves.”

“Ah. How… decidedly exciting? But you did only mention a king, are only men allowed to participate?”

“No, it’s just used as a placeholder term but if a woman, for example, wins the tournament, there is the option to be called king or queen so it’s whatever.”

“That’s pleasant. Is there only one royal leader allowed to rule over the kingdom, or is there also a pair system such as king and queen?”

“The pair system is only implemented when the current leader gets married. Once the king gets married, the king is no longer required to participate in the tournaments for 15 years. So in a way, this marriage helps me retain power for longer and ensure my survival for a long time.”

Technoblade bent down and gently grabbed George’s hand in two of his. He leaned down and kissed it gently. “I’ll do my best to be a good husband. I technically owe you about 15 years of my life.”

George blue screened for 10 seconds. And then blushed hard. _Unexpectedly smooth. And a bit embarrassing as well._ ”I-it’s no problem. Really.” He used his un-grabbed hand to push his sunglasses down, and used his arm to cover the rest of his face. Why am I so flustered? I don’t even know what his face looks like. Please do a face reveal before we get married.

While George wondered why Technoblade’s mask didn’t just smack into his hand before his mouth made it, Technoblade cleared his throat. “I believe I have some business with wedding planning to tend to. Excuse the suddenness.”

George smiled at him. “It’s no problem. I have some business to take care of myself. I wish you a good day, Technoblade.”

“As to you.” With that, Technoblade turned his heel and walked away swiftly to meet his pig-faced staff, regal cloak flowing behind and flashing gold whenever the light hit it. 

George turned to face Bad. “Did you tell them the flavoring order yet?”

“Oh muffins, I better go do that right now!”

As Bad runs off to report the order, he knocks into a different noble. “Lord Bad!”

“Ah, I’m very sorry!”

“We need you over here.”

“I actually have to go deliver a message from the prince.”

“Who’s this message for?”

“The kitchen, Lord Cacaphineus.”

“Then tell someone else to do it.”

“Being high class doesn’t excuse you from treating the lower class with basic human decency, but fine.” 

Bad tried to find a servant that didn’t seem busy, and found a servant casually loitering around. He was blond, and stood out from the rest due to his height. _Tall. Reminds me of George’s lover boy issue._

“Uh, excuse me! Could you relay this message from the prince to the kitchen’s head staff?”

The man fumbled. “Uh. I. I’m new?”

Bad groaned. “Wow, I’m running into so many issues. Ah, sorry if that was a bit rude, I’m just stressed. I really thought they taught trainees better. That might’ve been rude as well.” 

Bad smacked his hand against his forehead. “I’m rambling and I don’t have any time to waste. Jus- just ask someone else please? The prince wants a red velvet cake.” Bad paused. “Muffins! We forgot to talk about the frosting!”

Bad looked at the newbie servant. “Just tell someone inside the kitchen that the prince wants a red velvet cake, they’ll take care of the rest.” And with that, he finally runs off to meet the other noble impatiently tapping his foot against the floor.

The newbie servant stood there. And promptly started walking in a random direction. 

“Hey newbie!” A different server walked up. “I know you’re new here, but everyone gets a tour around the castle, right?” A blank stare from Newbie. “The kitchen is in the other direction.”

“Uh, right, thanks.”

“No problem newbie. Most of the higher ups are pretty okay, including the nobility. Just avoid Lord Cacaphineus.” 

Newbie stared. _What am I supposed to do with this useless information?_

Dream supposed he could help George out a bit, and started heading to the supposed direction of the kitchen with a scratchy outfit. _Seriously, do they wear these things all the time? Never complaining about uncomfortable clothes other than this ever again._

****

It was the day of the ball. George had a bunch of people standing around him, doing his hair and fixing up his appearance, his mother standing beside him.

“Now remember, Georgie. You had that ballroom fiasco two years ago, remember to be polite.”

“It happened once and will never happen again. If we stop thinking about it and forget it, then the event will just go away.”

“I know, I know. But we still have relation troubles with the other kingdom, and now that they know that you’re marrying Thirene’s ruler instead of their own, they’re quite upset.”

“You don’t have to worry, I’ll be fine.”

George’s mother looked concerned. “I know, but be careful. They’re out for vengeance and you could be in danger.”

George smiled and took his mother’s hand into his. “I’ll be fine.” He thought of something to make his mother leave him alone. “You should check up on Father! He might be wearing the wrong crown for a ball.”

George’s mother got up. “You’re not wrong. Your father’s a bit of a dummy. I’ll go check up on him. Stay safe, and have fun during the ball.” She kissed his cheek and ran off to go find the king.

He could hear a vague noise of tripping and a clink of metal. “Mother! Are you alright?”

“I’m fine!” That voice was not George’s mother.

“...Technoblade?” George felt dumbfounded somehow. “Why’d you come over here?”

“I was going to let you know that they wanted a proper proposal moment during the ball.”

“Ah, yes, that would’ve been quite the surprise had you not told me. Thank you.”

“There was something else I came for, a little more serious.” 

“Please, do tell.”

Technoblade pulled George outside of his room, away from the prep squad, and looked at him straight in the face. “Your mother mentioned something about your safety, so I’d just like to let you know that there has been coded messages intercepted by my guard. We haven’t been able to decode them yet, but I’m sure if they’re secret then they’re not any good.”

He looked at George and put his hand on his shoulder. “I’ll do my best to ensure your safety during the event. Please, stay near me and make sure to avoid people you don’t know.”

George made a confused expression but agreed regardless. “Then I’ll be sure to remember your warning.” He heard insistent knocks from the inside of his room and cringed. “I’m afraid I’ll have to continue the preparations, Technoblade. See you then.”

“Likewise.” And with a couple of swishes of that red cloak and the tinkling of gold accessories, Technoblade disappeared down the hall.

As George continued to be fussed over for the next 40 minutes, he was finally released to finish planning. He stepped out of his room with a flourish as he wore a fancy white princely-seeming suit with silver accents. He donned a dark blue cloak on his shoulders, flowing down and dragging against the floor, but elegantly, because aesthetic beauty standards said so. Silver chains, accessories, pins, and many other things with diamonds embedded into them draped over in a fashionable manner.

George felt awkward in attire this fancy for a short event, but this wasn’t the worst thing he had to wear at some point so he sucked it up. The prep squad took so long to prepare the outfit regardless, so it would seem ungrateful if he decided to scrap it. 

He finally picked up the ballroom crown his mother set out for him. He gazed at its splendor, a little bit shaped like a tiara in a way. Intricate patterns molded into it, large arrays of valuable stones that George probably wouldn’t be able to name. He placed it on his head and adjusted it to make sure that the crown wasn’t lopsided, and grabbed his sunglasses and placed them in front.

He greeted Bad outside of the hall. “Good evening, Bad. Your attire and accessories suit you well.”

“I would say the same to you, but you insist on wearing those gaudy sunglasses everywhere you go!”

“They’re not gaudy!” George paused. “I’m not a liar. Scratch that statement, they’re pretty gaudy. But their sentimental value weighs over the visual aspects.”

“Whatever you say.”

They entered the brightly lit and extravagantly decorated ballroom. This time, the walls were draped with red banners and red fabrics with gold accents to honor the visiting kingdom. Dark blue, Xathea’s (and the New Kingdom as well) kingdom color wrapped around red to create some kind of representation of a harmonious relationship. George didn’t know if that color scheme was exactly… perfect together, but it didn’t look awful, so he supposed it was fine. 

He spotted Technoblade and remembered his warning. _It’s a bit suspicious, he could kill me and attempt to start war, but I doubt it._ George made his way over to the king. _If someone does attempt to harm me, he’s a great fighter, I’m sure he can offer me protection._

“Greetings, Technoblade. There’s a bit more gold on you than usual today, I see.”

The pigman turned to face George. “Good evening to you as well, George. I see you’ve kept the sunglasses.”

George felt embarrassed somehow. “Uh, yes. They have a sentimental backstory to me.”

Technoblade hummed with interest. “Care to share the story?”

George pondered it a bit. “To pass the time, then.

“When I was around, say maybe 8, I escaped the castle walls without supervision. That day, I was especially bored, and I had been feeling stifled as I hadn’t left the castle walls in a month.”

“Oh wow, they don’t call you the shut-in prince for nothing.”

“It wasn’t by choice! But anyway, I went to the deep woods behind the castle. I ended up getting lost, and continued to do so until I came across another boy around my age in a small, secluded cabin. He offered me some shelter and a way back to the castle. I’m not sure if he recognized me as the prince, but he offered me some sunglasses when I shielded my eyes.”

George smiled fondly. “It felt like he was the first person to treat _me_ as a person rather than a prince. I suppose it’s a cliche thought, but I rather enjoy the memory.”

Technoblade smiled back a bit. “From the way you described it, I can see why you keep those gaudy sunglasses.”

George squawked indignantly. “They’re not gaudy! Why do people keep telling me this?!”

Meanwhile, a seemingly normal and average partygoer clutched a dagger in their hand, ready to strike at a moment’s notice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y’all that cloaked figure at the end isn’t Dream just for y’alls awareness
> 
> Anyway in the words of some rando I forgot their name I’m in paAIIIIAAAAAhhAin~ Something traumatic happened to me today and I also am in general physical pain. Tis the life a hero leads.

**Author's Note:**

> You know what my personal nickname for George is other than Gogy? Gogurt. Gogo Squeez. Any one of those elementary snacks. Also does anyone else hate apple sauce? I really hate apple sauce.


End file.
